Highland Shift

Prologue

“Scatter,” said the queen, imperiously, and then she’d thought no more about the powerfully magickal Druids.

The queen of the immortal race of the Tuatha Dé Danann, or Fae, was annoyed at her royal court for the games they were playing with the humans. With a gentle twitch of her finger and a word whispered on the wind, she’d banished the Druids to the four corners of the world and destroyed their libraries. She believed that once they were unable to pass on their magick, their power would die within a few generations.

The ancient members of the Druid Council, who were wise in the ways of both gods and humans, survived and cast wards around an island known only to them. There they continued to practice their arts despite their banishment, maintaining the veil between worlds, keeping humankind safe from otherworldly harm.

It was from this island that the Druid leaders cast powerful spells to direct certain futures. If you were inclined to believe in fairy tales, then you might believe this island sank into the sea thousands of years ago, taking the last of the ancient Druids and their magick with it. You might also believe such spells had no place in today’s world. You would be wrong on both counts.
 
Chapter One

Elena MacFarland stood motionless at the airline counter, temporarily lost in the earthy, spicy scent of the man behind her. Tired from the long flight and ready to get on with her fresh start, she resented the musky mixture that made her want to bury her face in his chest. Briefly closing her eyes, she sought inner strength, only to experience a mental vision of naked arms and legs tangled beneath satin sheets instead. With one last shaky breath of the intoxicating aroma, Elena retrieved her passport and ticket from the attendant and turned toward the seating area.

“Excuse me,” the man said to the harried attendant, his Scottish burr deep and sexy, “can you tell me if there are any more seats available on that flight? ‘Tis a matter of life and death.”

Shaking off the additional brain fog his voice induced, Elena pushed forward to the boarding area and placed her backpack by her feet. With a deep breath, she reluctantly raised her eyes just enough to see what had smelled and sounded so enticing.

No doubt about it, there had been a god behind her in line. Her mouth went dry at the expanse of golden skin and light dusting of hair on display between the top of his sturdy hiking boots and the bottom of his navy and green tartan. A thick cream-colored sweater clung to his broad shoulders, giving him a look of Old World style meets modern rustic. He was six and half feet of barely suppressed power, and her fingers curled as she thought about removing the leather thong that restrained his long sun-kissed hair. Blushing at her thoughts, Elena wondered if anything restrained him underneath his kilt. He looked as though he'd stepped off the cover of a romance novel. She barely resisted the urge to fan herself. She hadn’t thought men still wore kilts, but she definitely liked the look.

When Elena had stood at the counter, she’d noticed that the perky attendant’s nametag identified her as Shelly, and right now she looked ready to cry as she shook her head. There were no remaining seats available. The man continued to speak softly, and it was plain that he was using his considerable charm to find a way onto the flight. Whatever he said caused Shelly to look directly at Elena, whisper, and nod. He followed Shelly’s gaze and raised a sardonic brow when he caught Elena watching him.

His gaze slowly raked Elena’s body before he finally raised his gaze to meet her green eyes. Her spine stiffened, and nipples rose to pert attention in a confused and involuntary response. He stirred an ancient hunger deep within her belly, and lower still, as though she had a primal knowledge of his rock-hard body, steely arms, and crushing lips. Twenty feet apart and total strangers, Elena felt scorched by the heat that radiated between them.

Elena extinguished the fire quickly as her mind filled with memories of another egotistical jerk who had oozed such an overload of self-confidence. Over the past few months, Elena MacFarland graduated from law school, became engaged, passed the bar exam, and landed her dream job. She’d also been dumped on her ass, fired, served with a restraining order, and evicted by Martin J. Worthington, III, who was both her former boss and ex-future-father-in-law. Arrogance did not impress her.

With a sniff, Elena turned away from the drama. She thought about the circumstances that had brought her halfway around the world, ready to start a new life on the outskirts of Inverness. As soon as she realized that she’d been used to advance the Worthington’s agenda and unwilling to quit when she was so far behind, Elena had cleverly negotiated a very comfortable settlement with the elder Worthington in exchange for her silence. The only real drawback was that she needed to live in Scotland for two years. It didn’t seem such a bad bargain.

Impatiently, Elena pushed the memories away and once more observed the ruckus on the other side of the airport lounge. Shelly had taken the arrogant Scotsman to speak with an older woman who was apparently traveling alone. The woman was listening attentively to Shelly, while never taking her eyes off the man’s face. He took up the tale, presented his case, and then waited for her decision. Elena pitied her and expected it was a done deal; the man would get the woman’s seat. It would be hard to resist his smoldering gaze.

****

The flight attendant’s pampering made Elena glad that she had splurged on a first-class ticket. As she enjoyed her complimentary beverage, Elena watched the other travelers trudge past on their way to economy. The stream of passengers stopped, directions for buckling seatbelts announced, yet the cabin door was still open and the seat next to her still empty.

The senior flight attendant came through the door at the last possible minute, fawning over the gorgeous man from the terminal. He was completely oblivious to her attentions as he scanned the cabin, his gaze settling on Elena. He folded and squeezed himself into the remaining seat and brushed the flight attendant’s hands away as she tried to help him fasten his seatbelt.

Elena leaned closer to the window and feigned an interest in the hustle and bustle of London’s Heathrow Airport. She hadn’t been nearly this close to him in the terminal, and his scent alone had practically given her an orgasm. Now her heart pounded uncomfortably fast in her chest as she concentrated on making herself as small as possible. Elena didn’t understand her reaction to this manipulative man. She chalked it up to the strain of moving and tried to push her errant thoughts away.

As the plane began to taxi, he surprised her by introducing himself. “Hello, lass,” he said seriously, “my name is Faolan.” He pronounced it as FULL-an, the words rolling out of his mouth in a low and devastatingly sexy brogue.

Elena longed to wrap her tongue around his name, unsure of her ability to do it justice. She knew he was waiting for her to offer her name in return, but she had apparently gone mute as she stared at his face up close. His eyes were stunning. The golden amber irises were edged with a dark ring, and his lashes were long enough to make a woman weep with envy. They were eyes Elena could stare into for hours. His nose was strong and straight, with slightly flared nostrils. His lips parted in a half-mocking smile that showed even, white teeth.

She was just thinking she would like to nibble that full lower lip when he caught his teeth on it in a small bite. Fortunately, the flight attendant provided a timely distraction by asking Faolan what he would like to drink, giving Elena a chance to check herself for drool. With a quick mental inventory, she knew her emerald green eyes must look tired, and her long black curls were tangled into a clip on the back of her head. At least her blue v-necked sweater still clung flatteringly. There was comfort in that small positive. Elena was slightly more composed when Faolan looked back, so she gave introducing herself a whirl.

“I’m Elena MacFarland. Nice to meet you.” Oh God, that sounded so lame!

For the next hour, Elena was going to be stuck next to Faolan in a strangely intimate public place. She reminded herself that she wasn’t trying to make an impression, just trying to keep from touching the man. Even in the extra roomy seats of the first-class cabin, Faolan’s knee managed to bump against hers, and Elena gasped. It was as though a bolt of electricity shot straight up her leg! She thought she heard him laugh softly. Elena stared out the window, more disturbed by her reactions than she cared to admit.

Faolan was a powerfully sexual man. Everything about him set her hormones on fire. Her body and mind had disengaged from each other, and her body wanted to touch him, pet him, taste him. Elena had learned that lesson the hard way, and it wasn’t going to happen again. Good-looking, arrogant men like Faolan were never interested in the real Elena, there would always be a catch. Her body would just have to back the hell down; her head was in control now.

Determined to prove just how in control she was, Elena decided to risk some small talk. She took a deep breath to relieve the tension, turned toward Faolan, and was surprised to find him staring intently at her. Elena had always wondered why people needed to gather their wits about them, but now she knew. Wits could indeed be scattered. She spent a moment gathering hers and wondering why he watched her so closely.

In her hesitation, Faolan made the first conversational strike. “What brings you to Scotland, lass? Where are you headed?”

“Uhm.” That was clever. Try again. She cleared her throat. “I’m moving here. I just purchased a home, north of Inverness, and I’m on my way there.” She was relieved to notice that she sounded better, more like the confident woman she knew herself to be.

Faolan seemed politely interested, “How did you decide on Inverness? Do you have family here? Or is your man from here?”

Elena sighed. “It’s a long story, but no, I have no family or a man. I haven’t seen the house yet. It’s supposed to be a small farmhouse on the outskirts of a tiny village north of Inverness. It was part of a legal settlement.”

“A legal settlement?” Elena ignored the opportunity to explain; she wasn’t reliving that story with this man. As she searched for a safer topic, she belatedly remembered his comments to the attendant. He’d said, “It was a matter of life or death.” Maybe it hadn’t all been arrogance; he could have a loved one seriously hurt somewhere. She wondered if he wanted to talk about it.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I heard you at the counter. You seemed adamant about getting on this flight. I hope everything is all right with your family?”

His jaw tightened, and he turned his head away. He looked livid for a minute, and Elena was glad that she wasn’t the focus of his anger. Then as suddenly as the fury appeared, it left him with a sigh. “Nay, lass, nothing will ever be right again. I have no family,” he said with a voice full of sadness.

“I’m sorry,” Elena offered, not sure of how else to respond. She returned to looking out the window in order to give him some privacy. She knew what it was like to be alone in this world, to have your dreams ripped out from under you, to feel as though nothing would ever be right again.

After a moment, Faolan changed the subject. “How are you planning on getting to the Highlands?”

Elena jumped at the chance to ease away from topics that were more personal in nature. “I leased a Land Rover,” Elena continued, trying to keep the subject light, “I made a reservation at the Hilton in Inverness for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll drive to Fairth.”

They continued to chat about inconsequential things and discovered they had very little in common. She told him she was an attorney; he said he dabbled in investments. She liked sports; he didn’t. This was her first trip abroad; he was well-traveled. Soon the flight attendant returned to tell them to prepare for landing. Although Elena had enjoyed their brief conversation, she would be relieved to get away from him. From his sheer physical size to his long brooding glances, everything about him was too intense. It had only been a few short months since her break up with Marty, and Faolan was exactly the type of man she had sworn off for life: great looking, seriously confident with a tangible air of entitlement. Definitely not her cup of tea.

“I’m a little curious,” said Elena as they stood in the aisle waiting to exit the plane. “How did you manage to get on the flight? I thought it was full.”

She looked up and stifled a gasp. Despite being a foot taller than she was, he towered over her; his face much closer than she expected because of the cabin’s low ceiling. His look was positively dangerous, and his tawny eyes turned dark as he scowled. Their gazes locked for a minute, the air doing that strange burning thing around them again, just as it had done in the terminal. He bared his teeth in a tight, wolfish imitation of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I always get what I want. Eventually.”